


Between the Sparks and Junkyard Thoughts

by countmeaway



Series: C'mon and Lift the Fog [4]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 21:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countmeaway/pseuds/countmeaway
Summary: He never imagined, never let himself dream, that he’d find someone who loves him, never thought that he’d find someone who’d want to stay with him once they got to know him, every part of him, the good, the bad, the dark parts he never thought he’d get away from





	Between the Sparks and Junkyard Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'd started this in hopes of finishing it by Christmas (last year's Christmas, that is), but that didn't quite work out. But Christmas in July works just as well.

Dean wants to be excited about Christmas, he really does, especially since it’s Hadley’s first Christmas—their first Christmas as a family, but it doesn’t feel right, celebrating in Vegas, when Hadley’s first Christmas should be a winter wonderland.  
  
Hadley is nine months old now, growing like a damn weed. She looks more like Seth with every day that passes: the curly hair, so dark it’s almost black, the set and shape of her eyes—though they’re still blue, an exact mirror of Dean’s own—and the same tan complexion. She’s crawling and scooting now, and Dean knows it’s only a matter of time before she starts walking. She has six teeth now, and Dean’s pretty sure he saw two more starting to make their way in.  
  
It’s hard to believe she’s going to be a year old in a couple of months. Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday that he was being handed a bundle of pink squirming baby.  
  
But he wants her first Christmas to be special, wants it to be something she’ll have photos of to look back on when she’s older, something he doesn’t have.  
  
He wants her to have everything he never did.  
  
”So, Hadley-bear,” Dean says, lifting her out of her crib. She’s just woken up from one of her many naps, and she’s all toothy smiles, saliva spilling down her chin as she grins up at him. “What should we do for Christmas? And what in the world should we get papa?”  
  
Hadley babbles at him, clapping her hands together before she pats at Dean’s face, trying to shove her fingers into his mouth.  
  
”Yeah, kiddo, I dunno, either.” Dean lays her down on her changing table, unsnapping the buttons of her onesie, changing her diaper with an ease he never thought he’d have. “You think papa will wanna spend Christmas in Iowa?”  
  
Seth still has his house in Davenport, and they’d stayed there for Thanksgiving after having dinner at Seth’s parents, and it’s an idea Dean’s been tossing around since they got home. One of the guest rooms there had already been converted into a nursery, though not as extravagant as the one here at home, and it hasn’t gotten any use besides that one trip. Plus, there, they can bundle her up in little snowsuits, take her out in the falling snow to buy a tree, to take in all the Christmas lights around the city, and to visit her grandparents again.  
  
”Alright, c’mon,” Dean says, settling Hadley against his chest, “let’s go see what kind of trouble we can get into before papa gets home.”  
  
\--  
  
The kind of trouble Dean can get into with a nine month old is a lot. He’d bought bottles of different colored fingerpaints for Hadley, and a large roll of paper that he spreads over the kitchen floor, and he lets her have free reign, little baby handprints all over the paper, color all over her arms, legs, onesie, and all over Dean when she crawls over to him, patting at the thigh of his jeans to get his attention—not that she needs to do that; Dean’s attention is _always_  on her.  
  
Her green-blue-red-purple hands dig through his hair when he lifts her up, and he can’t help but laugh and smile. His daughter is a monster mess-maker, and he wouldn’t have her any other way.  
  
”Okay, princess, let’s go get you cleaned up so you can eat,” Dean says, not minding at all that she’s covering him in paint, “and so papa doesn’t have a fit when he sees you.”  
  
”Too late,” comes Seth’s voice, startling Dean. Dean turns to face him, and Seth’s grinning, shaking his head, his phone aimed toward them, undoubtedly taking a million and one photos to post on Instagram.  
  
That was a thing Dean wasn’t too comfortable with in the beginning, didn’t want all their private family moments posted all over Seth’s Instagram, didn’t want _Hadley_  posted all over Instagram, the rest of the internet, but he warmed up to it slowly, something easing inside him when he saw how positive all the feedback and reactions were. Everybody eats up the photos of Hadley, and it fills Dean with a ridiculous amount of pride to know that people think his daughter is the cutest baby ever.  
  
Dean grins back, can’t not. “I’m gonna go wash her up.”  
  
”Nah,” Seth says, slides his phone into his pocket. “Gimme the munchkin.”  
  
Dean passes Hadley over, and she almost tumbles out of his arms in her haste to get to her papa, shrieking and giggling as she bats at his face. God, Dean will never not love the sight of Seth and Hadley together, head bent low as he smushes kisses all over her chubby face.  
  
”You gonna take her a bath?” Dean asks, squatting down to clean up the mess now that Seth has Hadley. He would’ve waited until she was down for her nap again, or occupying herself with all the educational toys Seth keeps buying, but it’s easier to get things done when Seth’s home.  
  
Seth nods. “I wanted to talk to you about Christmas plans, though.”  
  
It’s a little creepy sometimes, how attuned he and Seth are to each other, how their thoughts always seem to be on the same wavelength. It’s something that happened from time to time back in the days of The Shield, but now it’s an ever-present thing.  
  
”Gimme a minute and I’ll be right up. I gotta clean up, anyway.”  
  
The paper stays on the floor to dry, and the bottles of paint get stored in a cupboard. When Dean makes it up to the bathroom, Hadley is splashing away, and Seth has already removed his shirt. Hadley loves bathtime, loves the bubbles and sending water in every direction, not a care in the world as she wets the floor, her parents.  
  
Dean leans against the wall next to the bathtub, out of the line of fire. “So,” he says, “Christmas.”  
  
”How would you feel about spending the rest of the year in Iowa?” Seth asks hesitantly, half his attention focused on swiping a washcloth over Hadley’s neck and arms.  
  
Dean laughs softly. “I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he says, shrugging when Seth looks over at him.  
  
”Really?” Seth asks, smiling.  
  
”Doesn’t really feel right havin’ her first Christmas here, y’know?” Dean says. “I mean, yeah, it’s home, but like, so’s Davenport, y’know, her grandparents live there, and she should have the white Christmas she can’t get here, all those things families do for Christmas and stuff.”  
  
”Hey,” Seth says, turns to look at Dean for a minute before turning back to Hadley, “you don’t gotta explain it to me. I feel the same as you.”  
  
”Should I start packing?” Dean asks, pushing off the wall with his shoulder. He still needs to shower and change, dried paint flaking on his skin, and Hadley needs to be fed and put down for another nap.  
  
Seth nods, rinsing the shampoo from Hadley’s hair. “Yeah. I’ll go help you after Hadley’s down for her nap.”  
  
Dean heads to their bedroom to pack. Time for bitter cold and slush filled streets. The things he does for his daughter.  
  
\--  
  
There’s plenty of snow on the ground when they get to Davenport, and it makes Dean a little uneasy and anxious traveling on the slick roads with Hadley in the car, strapped into her carseat. Seth’s a careful and cautious driver, though, barely traveling faster than the speed limit. It takes them longer to pull into Seth’s driveway, but they made it in one piece, and that’s all that matters to Dean.  
  
”I had my mom stop by earlier to turn on the heat,” Seth says as he unlocks the door, pushing it open. Hadley’s asleep in Dean’s arms, bundled in a puffy snowsuit, mittens, and a hat, and it’s pleasantly warm when he gets her inside, a wave of heat hitting the cold skin of Dean’s face and neck.  
  
”Smart thinkin’,” Dean says, laying Hadley down on the sofa. He doesn’t bother taking her snowsuit off since they’re going to be leaving again soon, but he tucks pillows around her before he goes to help Seth bring all their bags off the car, putting them off to the side to be dealt with later.  
  
The house is completely devoid of any holiday decorations, and that’s their first stop after they get Hadley bundled back into the car. She marvels at all the lights and decorations on display in the stores, smiling so wide her dimples are deep pockets in her chubby little cheeks.  
  
She laughs and giggles as she tries to pull the strings of lights off the decorated trees displayed in the store, and her face screws up like she’s going to start screaming whenever Dean or Seth guide her hands away.  
  
They eventually get everything they need: lights, unbreakable ornaments, garland, a star to top the tree, wrapping paper, a tree skirt, and a _baby’s first Christmas_  ornament. It’s a purple rocking horse, wearing a Santa hat on its head, and it has _Baby’s First Christmas_  scrawled along the bottom. It’s a simple ornament, but Dean loves it, and Seth seems to agree if the grin he has on his face is anything to go by.  
  
After the store, they drive to the nearest lot selling Christmas trees and wreaths. It’s getting colder as the daylight dims, and Dean makes sure Hadley’s all bundled up before he settles her against his side.  
  
”So,” Seth says, a hand on Dean’s back as he walks beside them, beanie pulled low on his head, “do we want a big tree? Little tree? Charlie Brown tree?”  
  
Dean snorts out a laugh. “Definitely the Charlie Brown tree,” he says, shaking his head fondly. “Something in between?”  
  
It takes awhile of walking around, examining each tree thoroughly to make sure there aren’t any bald spots, before they find the perfect one. It’s seven feet tall, thick and full, and the amount of lights, garland, and ornaments will fill it perfectly.  
  
”Looks like we found our tree, Hadley-bug,” Seth says, tickles his fingers in against her belly. She laughs and bats at his hands, leans forward with her arms outstretched, and Seth takes her easily, holding her tightly against his chest.  
  
For all the weightlifting and working out Dean has done throughout his life, carrying Hadley around makes his arms hurt. It’s the kind of hurt he loves, wouldn’t change for the world, but for as light as she is, holding her over a period of time makes it seem like she weighs infinitely more than she does.  
  
Seth gets the attention of one of the workers, letting them know they’ve found the tree they want. Before the guy can cut it down, though, Seth’s asking him to take a picture of them standing in front of it.  
  
It’s a good idea, one Dean hadn’t thought of. It’s a good way to document picking out their first tree as a family, Hadley’s first tree at all, and he wraps an arm around Seth’s waist, Hadley between them, smiling as the flash goes off, sudden and bright.  
  
”Thank you,” Seth says, taking his phone back and sliding it into the pocket of his coat.  
  
The guy smiles, says, “No problem. You guys make a cute family.”  
  
Dean doesn’t blush. It’s the cold making his cheeks pink up, shut up, Seth.  
  
The tree gets strapped to the roof of the car, and they’re halfway home before Dean remembers they didn’t buy a wreath.  
  
”We can always go back and get one,” Seth says, but Dean shakes his head.  
  
”Nah, maybe tomorrow,” Dean replies. “Hadley’s gotta get changed and fed soon. S’gettin’ pretty late. Oh, hey, do we have any groceries for us to eat?”  
  
Seth turns to him from the driver’s seat, grimacing.  
  
”Guess we’re ordering in tonight,” Dean says, though it’s not that big of a deal. After putting up the tree and getting it decorated, along with getting Hadley fed, changed, and tiring her out enough that she’ll sleep through the night, Dean doubts he’d have had the energy to actually cook anything.  
  
It’s going to be a bit of a challenge, getting the tree in the house. None of the baby gates are set up yet, so one of them will have to sit inside with Hadley while the other brings the tree in. Dean immediately volunteers Seth for it.  
  
”I mean, you’re still doin’ all that CrossFit shit,” he reasons, waiting for Seth to open the door so they can get inside. “You’re stronger, and you’ll get it done faster. I’ll get the gates set up, and help you get it in the stand.”  
  
”Don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about that,” Seth says, making Dean’s forehead scrunch in confusion.  
  
Seth steps out of the way, gives Dean enough room to slip by with Hadley held against his chest. There’s a Pack ‘N Play set up in the living room where there wasn’t before they left, a bassinet on one side, and what looks to be a changing pad on the other.  
  
”Your parents?” Dean asks, overcome with a surge of emotion with how grateful and thankful he is for Seth’s parents, for the loving, doting grandparents they are.  
  
”Yeah,” Seth says, the door closing with a soft snick. “Wonder if maybe they dropped by to give it to us, but then decided just to set it up when they saw we were gone. I’ll have to call ‘em and thank them when we’re done.”  
  
Dean takes a minute to examine the Pack ‘N play, trailing his free hand along the sides of it, testing how sturdy it is by putting as much of his weight onto it as he can. When it holds up, he nods his head, laying Hadley down in the bassinet and strapping her in. She’s more asleep than awake at this point, so they have some time to get the tree into the house and into the stand.  
  
”Ready?” Dean asks, trailing a finger down the soft skin of Hadley’s cheek before he turns to Seth, who’s watching him with a soft look in his eyes. It’s been months, and Dean doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.  
  
Getting the tree inside is easy enough, and once they do, they lean it against a wall in the living room, trying to decide where it should go as they strip off their gloves, coats, and hats.  
  
”Probably in a corner,” Seth says, gesturing with his head to the corner of the living room that’s empty. “The baby gates can be put up around it, so Hadley can’t get to it and tug it down.”  
  
It’s easier said than done. It takes them longer than it should to get the tree into the stand, for Seth to tighten the screws that’ll hold it in place, but once he does, they step back to look at it, and it’s… crooked, lilting to the left.  
  
”S’crooked,” Dean tells Seth, head tilted to the side.  
  
Seth gives him a flat look. “Yeah, I see that,” he says, blowing out a huge breath. “C’mon.”  
  
It takes another couple of tries to get it completely straight, and once they do, Dean just wants to lay down, decorating be damned. He’s tired, sticky, and Hadley still needs to be changed, fed, and bathed.  
  
”You gonna help me?” Seth asks, digging through the bags while Dean eyes the sofa, wondering if he can get away with a quick power nap.  
  
”Yeah.” Dean shakes his head, trying to power through the overwhelming urge to just sleep. They get the lights draped around the tree, the garland following. All that’s left are the ornaments and tinsel, but Dean decides now is a good time to take a break.  
  
Seth orders pizza while Dean removes Hadley’s snowsuit, her blue eyes blinking sleepily up at him. “Hungry, munchkin?” He tickles her stomach, delighting in the laugh she lets out. He gets her diaper changed, her clothing righted. “Hey, Seth?”  
  
”Hmm?”  
  
”We have no food for Hadley.” They have her formula, yeah, but she’s eating more solid foods every day.  
  
Seth looks about as irritated as Dean feels.  
  
”Think I’ve got enough time to run to the grocery store?” Seth asks, sounding frazzled and like he’s seconds away from pulling his hair out.  
  
”Go ahead,” Dean says. “Just grab a couple things for her to eat tonight. We’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow.”  
  
Seth bundles up in his coat and beanie again, patting his pockets presumably for his phone, keys, and wallet, while Dean lifts Hadley into his lap, letting her chew on his fingers.  
  
”Dean,” Seth says with a sigh, “stop that. Her teething rings are in one of her bags.”  
  
Dean makes a face at him, but he pulls his hand away, wiping the spit off on his pants.  
  
”I”ll be back,” Seth says. “Love you both.”  
  
Dean hums, says, “We love you, too. Drive safe.” He lifts one of Hadley’s hands in his, using it to wave in Seth’s direction.  
  
The house is quiet after Seth leaves, the soft sounds of the furnace churning heat out the only sounds until Hadley starts making noise, nonsensical babbles that make Dean’s heart feel like it’s ten sizes too big.  
  
Hadley starts flailing in Dean’s hold, a sign that she wants to be set down, and he puts her in the Pack N Play while he sets up the gates around the tree, moving as quick as he can because Hadley’s starting to whimper and sniffle.  
  
The pizza arrives just as Dean’s finished setting them up, however, and he grimaces at the shriek Hadley lets out when he walks further away from her to answer the door, quickly paying for the pizza and apologizing to the delivery girl for the loud squalling.  
  
Dean closes the door once the delivery girl turns and starts walking away, and the scent of the pizza hits his nose immediately, his mouth starting to water. It’s not a pleasant mouth-watering, however, Dean’s stomach quickly turning and flipping, nausea coming on quick and fast, and he barely manages to set the pizza down on the coffee table before he’s running into the downstairs bathroom, falling to his knees just in time to empty his stomach into the toilet, tears pricking at his eyes.  
  
Hadley’s crying in the living room, and Dean’s emptying his stomach into the toilet, and he knows instantly what’s wrong, and it makes the nausea worse, has him gagging and retching even when nothing’s coming up.  
  
He rinses his mouth when he’s done, splashing water on his face and avoiding his reflection in the mirror. His hands are shaking, and he ignores that, too, quickly heading back out into the living room to lift Hadley into his arms, holding her close to his chest.  
  
”Oh, baby girl,” he says, hating how gritty and rough his voice sounds. “What are we gonna do?”  
  
”Do about what?”   
  
Seth’s voice makes Dean jump, and Dean tries to cover it by forcing out a laugh he doesn’t feel. “About you bein’ so damn forgetful,” he teases, hoping Seth doesn’t notice the slight tremble in his voice, the falseness of his cheer.  
  
”Because you’re the paragon of remembering things, right?” Seth asks with a raised eyebrow and a grin. He’s got a paper bag clutched in one hand, and he takes the pizza box with the other and carries them into the kitchen, setting them down on the island.  
  
Dean ignores the pizza, bouncing Hadley on his hip as Seth starts taking things out of the grocery bag. There’s a pack of chicken breasts, a box of crackers, a bottle of apple juice, and a sweet potato.  
  
”Need help?” Dean asks, watching the movements of Seth’s body as he shakes out of his coat, draping it over the back of a barstool that’s tucked under the kitchen island. Seth’s really amped up his workouts over the last handful of months, and it’s paid off tremendously, muscles thick and defined all over.  
  
”Nah,” Seth says with a shake of his head. “Sit down, eat. You look like you’re ready to pass out.”  
  
Dean swallows roughly. Pizza is the last thing he wants to be eating or smelling, and it’s true that he’s exhausted, feels like he could fall asleep where he’s standing. Were it not for Hadley, he probably already would have.  
  
”I’m good,” Dean says, but he sits at the island with Hadley, subtly pushing the pizza box away. Seth catches him, though, eyes narrowing.  
  
”What’s wrong?”  
  
Dean shakes his head. “Nothin’,” he says, trying to ignore the way it feels like his stomach is trying to escape through his mouth once again.  
  
”Dean.” Seth’s got an eyebrow raised now, his arms folded across his chest.  
  
”Seth.”  
  
”You never turn down pizza,” Seth points out, and Dean curses the fact that Seth knows him as well as he does.  
  
”Stomach’s just bein’ a little weird,” Dean says, giving Seth as much of a smile as he can muster. Judging by the look on Seth’s face, it’s not a very convincing one.  
  
”Like, upset stomach weird, nausea weird?” Seth presses, though his voice is filled with concern.  
  
”Probably just from not sleepin’ much,” Dean says, brushing it off. It’s happened a time or two before, and he knows Seth knows it. It’s a sign that he needs to take it easy, and as far as Seth knows, that’s all it is, until Dean can get to a doctor and be 100% certain it is what he thinks it is.  
  
”I’ll finish up here quick so Hadley can eat, then we can go to sleep, alright?”  
  
God, Seth is so great, Dean feels ridiculously lucky every moment he’s breathing.  
  
\--  
  
Dean tries to hide all traces of his nausea and vomiting, and Seth seems to be none the wiser to it. It takes a couple days, but Seth finally has to be somewhere for a couple hours, and Dean drops him off, promising to be back in two hours before he heads in the direction of the urgent care, Hadley asleep in her carseat in the back.  
  
There isn’t much of a wait, and Hadley sleeps through the entire quick appointment, but the answer is there in the stick the doctor gives Dean, a little positive sign appearing in the window.  
  
”You should make an appointment as soon as you can,” the doctor informs him, and Dean nods his head, says, “Yeah, yeah, I will, once I get back home to Vegas.”  
  
”Congratulations again, Mr. Ambrose,” the doctor says, excusing himself with a polite smile, the door closing softly behind him.  
  
Dean slips the plastic little test into the pocket of his coat, feeling like he’s putting the weight of the world in there. He hefts Hadley’s carseat, locking it back into the base in the car, heading back to the CrossFit gym Seth is at, just in time for Seth to emerge, beanie pulled down low on his head, workout bag slung over his shoulder.  
  
”How’d the photoshoot go?” Dean asks, glancing at Seth out of the corner of his eyes before he refocuses his attention back on the road, merging into traffic once he gets a chance.  
  
”Magazine canceled,” Seth says, but he doesn’t sound disappointed, the way he would be if plans get changed at the last minute, and it makes something horrible and uncertain flair to life in Dean’s stomach, dread washing over him.  
  
What if--fuck, Dean doesn’t even want to think it--Seth’s cheating on him, using excuses of photoshoots and other meetings to have clandestine hookups where Dean won’t find out? It has his stomach roiling, terrified.  
  
”You okay?” Seth asks, when a few minutes have gone by and Dean hasn’t said anything.  
  
Dean finds himself nodding, doesn’t trust what would come out of his mouth were he to open it. Vomit, accusations, he doesn’t even know.  
  
The ride to Seth’s house is quiet, though it’s not a long drive, the plastic little life-changer feeling like a million pounds in his pocket.  
  
They’ve barely gotten into the house, Hadley asleep in Seth’s arms, before Seth’s asking a million and one questions, none of which Dean feels like answering right now.  
  
”Dean, c’mon,” Seth says, voice sliding into a nasally whine, the one Seth knows pisses Dean off.  
  
Dean grits his teeth, busies himself with hanging up their jackets and hats, ignoring Seth for as long as he can before he turns to face him, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
”I went to the doctor today,” Dean says, ignoring the trip-hammer of his heart inside his chest, how it feels like his insides are about to escape out of his mouth.  
  
Seth pales, sets Hadley down in the Pack ‘N Play and takes a step closer. “Are you okay?”  
  
Dean shrugs, swallowing roughly. He turns back to the coat rack, pulling the plastic little rectangle out of the pocket he’d shoved it into, holding his breath as he tosses it to Seth.  
  
Seth can’t seem to decide which to focus his attention on: Dean, or the pregnancy test in his hands. His eyes are darting back and forth between them, and his mouth opens and closes half a dozen times before he finally says, “Are you--is this?”  
  
”Pregnant,” Dean says, rubbing a hand over his face. Pregnant. Again. Unplanned. Again. “You don’t--” Dean pauses, takes a breath, “--you don’t have to stick around, if you don’t want. I mean, I know you love Hadley, but you didn’t, you didn’t sign up for a second baby. You can, you can go, if you want.”  
  
”Are you serious?” Seth asks, and he sounds angry, livid, and Dean’s so fucking confused. Shouldn’t that be what Seth wants? Shouldn’t he want to leave, to be with whoever it is he’s seeing? “I don’t--I just.”  
  
Seth is in front of Dean before he even realizes Seth’s moving, Seth’s hands cradling the sides of his face. He looks--he looks a little wrecked, a little wild, a lot disbelieving. “Why the fuck would I want to leave, Dean? You’re having my baby.”  
  
”Already had your baby once before,” Dean points out, because he can, because he doesn’t know what else to say, feeling a little gobsmacked at the reverent way Seth is looking at him right now.  
  
”Again,” Seth corrects, lips lifted in a small smile. “You’re having my baby again. Why the hell would I want to leave?”  
  
Dean shakes his head, can’t even give voice to the stupid thoughts floating through his head.  
  
Seth takes a step back, shoves a hand into one of the front pockets of his painted-on jeans, rooting around for god knows what. Dean’s always a little surprised Seth’s hand even fits in there with how tight they are, how it looks like the material is always a second away from bursting apart at the seams with all the muscle Seth’s packing.  
  
”There wasn’t a photoshoot today,” Seth says, hand free of his pocket, now clenched into a tight fist. “No interview with a magazine, nothing like that.”  
  
Dean grits his teeth. Why is Seth telling him this? Why is he admitting that he lied? He knows, he fucking knows, how much Dean hates being lied to.  
  
”What were you doing then?” Dean asks, hating the croak in his voice, the way it feels like his heart is about to give out, the way his lungs feel like they’re not working.  
  
Seth moves in closer again, drops down to a knee and takes Dean’s left hand in his. Dean’s sure he’s not breathing now, heart racing, thump-thumping like a caged animal inside his ribs.  
  
”We’ve been through a lot,” Seth starts, “and it hasn’t all been very good. A lot of it’s been pretty bad, honestly, and I know that’s on me. I know that’s my fault. But if I was given the chance to do it all over again? I’d do it all the exact same way. I wouldn’t trade what we have now for anything.”  
  
Dean bites on the inside of his lip, feels tears prickling at his eyes. Seth doesn’t look any better, brown eyes rimmed with red, his voice rough and trembling.  
  
”You didn’t have to let me in. You didn’t have to let me be a part of Hadley’s life, or your life. You didn’t have to give me a family, a home, but you did. You did, and I will never be able to repay you for that, but I promise to you, Dean Ambrose, that I will spend the rest of our lives loving you, loving our children, being the best husband and father I can possibly be, if you’ll let me. If--,” Seth’s voice cracks, and he shakes his head like he’s trying to keep himself together, to stave off the emotions coursing through him. It doesn’t look like it works, but Seth must not care, because he powers on, determined and absolute the way he always is when he wants something, “--if you’ll marry me. Marry me?”  
  
Dean licks his lips, the salt of his tears exploding on his tongue. He tries to open his mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a ragged sob, his shoulders shaking. He wants to blame it on pregnancy hormones, but he knows that’s not what it is, knows this is nothing but pure raw emotion, clawing at his throat, stinging his eyes.  
  
He’s a broken kid from the bad part of Cincinnati, Ohio, motherless, fatherless, a high school dropout who found love in wrestling. He never imagined, never let himself dream, that he’d find someone who loves him, never thought that he’d find someone who’d want to stay with him once they got to know him, every part of him, the good, the bad, the dark parts he never thought he’d get away from, but here he is, with a daughter he loves more than life, another baby on the way, and Seth. Seth, the love of his life. Seth, his better half. Seth, the father of his children. Seth, his soulmate, the one who fits him perfectly, who smooths out all his rough edges, the one he never wants to be without.  
  
”Yes,” he finally manages to say, and he feels infinitely lighter once Seth slips the ring onto his finger, rises to his feet and throws his arms around him, their foreheads resting together.  
  
”Shh,” Seth soothes, one hand on the nape of Dean’s neck, the other rubbing circles on Dean’s back. “Shhh, we’re okay. Everything’s okay.”  
  
It is, Dean realizes. They’re okay, everything is okay. They’re engaged, they’re going to be married, Mr. And Mr. Ambrose-Rollins, with another baby on the way, and the sweetest daughter they could’ve ever asked for.  
  
Everything is perfect.  
  
\--  
  
Hadley’s first Christmas is perfect, too, a thick layer of snow covering the ground, more presents than she knows what to do with, especially since she’s so enamored by the crinkling of the wrapping paper.  
  
Seth’s parents pick her up in the afternoon for a couple hours of grandparent time, leaving Dean and Seth alone, planning to meet up with them at their house for Christmas dinner.  
  
”Just think,” Seth says, laying on the sofa, Dean’s head resting on his thigh, “this time next year, we’ll have another baby to spoil. Think it’ll be another girl?”  
  
Dean sets his hand on the flat expanse of his stomach. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, looking up at Seth. “As long as he or she is healthy.”  
  
”You’re the sappiest of saps, Dean Ambrose,” Seth says with a grin, running his fingers through Dean’s hair. It makes Dean’s toes curl, a shiver race up and down his spine.  
  
”Bite me, Rollins,” Dean retorts, sticking his tongue out at Seth.  
  
And because Seth is Seth, he does just that, leaning down and sinking his teeth into the curve of Dean’s shoulder, hard enough that Dean feels the bite of his teeth even through the thick sweatshirt he’s wearing.  
  
God, but his husband-to-be is a little shit.  
  
Dean grins, eyes going soft as he looks up at Seth again, thumb brushing over the silver band Seth slipped onto his ring finger.  
  
Life can’t get much better than this.


End file.
